


Threads of Fate

by nostalgic_breton_girl



Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24892834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgic_breton_girl/pseuds/nostalgic_breton_girl
Summary: A series of short pieces inspired by the prompt 'luck/lucky', and featuring my Breton Nerevarine Lunette.
Relationships: Ilmeni Dren/Female Nerevarine
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. Bureaucracy or Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lunette, a member of the Cyrodiil Thieves' Guild, was arrested in the Imperial City when, quite by accident, she became involved in a plot to assassinate the Emperor. While her co-conspirators were all executed, she was granted leniency, and sentenced to hard labour in the mine at Raven Rock. On the way to Morrowind the Imperials decided Seyda Neen was a good place to stop and carry out some routine administrative tasks.

‘Ah, yes. Lunette... Lunette... yes, here you are.’

Socucius Ergalla – or rather just Socucius, for he was one of those irksome ‘we’re all friends here’ types – made a note on his list, and glanced at the entry a moment.

‘Yes... you’re the assassin.’

‘I am no assassin,’ I said at once.

But the tone in which he had spoken had not been despising; it seemed ‘assassin’ was a nickname I had earned among my authorities, as much for the fact that I was not one, as for the fact that no assassination had actually taken place.

‘It would seem not. Still... your fellows were close, else they should have got off more lightly. – Now, before we let you go, there are a few things which we must record.’

‘I am not being let go,’ said I: ‘I am merely changing prisons.’

‘Hard labour is not imprisonment, as much as you may think it so. – While I realise that you will continue to be in Imperial keeping, you are being allowed a relative measure of freedom. – Leastways, there are some forms for you to look over; and I must verify your class and sign.’

‘Class?’ said I, with a raised eyebrow: ‘I thought that was obvious. I am a Thief.’

‘Yes, yes... quite. – And your sign is –?’

‘The Shadow.’

His eyes twinkled almost mischievously. ‘I imagine that is quite useful, in your line of work.’

‘It was not useful enough, or I should not be here.’

To this he did not respond; I suppose he was trying to play nice, to persuade me that, despite his very occupation, he was not the obnoxious imperialistic bastard I believed him to be. It was not really working, for either of us.

‘Now that that’s recorded –’ he set aside the first paper, and with that uncovered a whole stack of others: ‘I am obliged to ask you to go over some forms, and sign them. – I presume you are at least signature literate?’

‘I am _fully_ literate,’ I retorted.

‘Even better!... Here, I’ll let you read them.’

They were precisely what I was expecting from a stack of Imperial paperwork: far more words than necessary to express the demand that one signs one’s very life away. By _I hereby declare my concurrence with the information contained herewithal_ , they rather meant _I have no choice but to be complicit in my own servitude_.

I signed the papers nonetheless, with Socucius’s eyes upon me – eyes that betrayed the self below the cover of naïvety – and handed them back with a sigh.

‘The Empire is fond of paperwork,’ said he with a smile, misinterpreting my sigh: ‘you get used to it. – You must know that my family hails from Daggerfall, and that the Empire’s pettiest politics are nothing compared to what I escaped.’

‘I should rather die, than be bound in all this red tape,’ I exclaimed.

And suddenly he was serious: he looked over at me, almost grandfatherly, and said:

‘Lunette... I am not here to give you advice, and nor do you have to take it, but... Really, you are _very_ lucky to be alive. While I appreciate that your circumstances will not make it easy... I should make the most of that.’

‘Lucky to be alive?’ said I bitterly: ‘if one might call it that.’

I stood, when he invited me to; and I left without looking back at him, but I knew his eyes were still on me. – And despite my best efforts, his words would not leave me. Lucky to be alive! was this luck? To live as a slave, and to the Empire! rather than die as a free woman! – I was not _lucky_ , mine was the most _unfortunate_ of fates! –

But despite everything, his exhortion to _make the most of it_ stuck with me, and it was fuelled entirely by spite that I determined to do precisely that. I was not lucky, but I was alive, certainly, and if the Empire wanted me to suffer that, then I would refuse to give them what they wanted. Oh! – then this would be a chapter, not a punishment! – then there _was_ a future, and I would ensure that it worked in my favour, whatever that should mean!


	2. A Cure for Corprus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based around the quest 'Corprus Cure'. Lunette returns from Ilunibi infected with corprus, and Caius tries to work out what they ought to do about it.

‘Well!’ said Caius: ‘if nothing else, you are lucky to be alive.’

‘My dear Caius,’ said I, scandalised: ‘I have corprus.’

He sat me down, offered me a drink of something; I took up this offer, and smiled without humour as it dulled a little of the aches in my muscles, and for the moment dispelled my unpleasant recollections.

‘I suppose this is it,’ I said, after a moment.

‘It?’

‘Well,’ said I: ‘this bloody thing isn’t curable, is it? Even if I survive, and shamble around for years to come as a bloated monster, then I shan’t be Lunette any more, and I certainly shan’t be of any use to you or your projects.’

‘Ah,’ said Caius suddenly: ‘I didn’t mention, did I. – I have been doing some research, and it turns out – Divayth Fyr may well have the cure. I made sure of that while you were gone, in the event that you should contract it.’

‘I – what?’

‘Possibly I should have researched it beforehand.’

‘Yes, that might have been a good idea.’

‘But that’s incidental,’ he said, and sipped from his own glass: ‘the point is, I asked Eddie about it – you don’t know Fast Eddie, do you? Perhaps I shall have to introduce you. – Anyway, I knew about the Corprusarium. I knew a little of Divayth’s projects there, but it seems he is nearer to his goal than any of us realised. If anyone can cure you, it’s him.’

I contemplated him, and my circumstances, for a good few moments more, before taking up my glass again, and leaning back.

‘It may well be over despite that, anyway,’ I put in.

‘How do you mean?’

‘ “ _The Curse-of-Flesh before him flies_...”’ I quoted, with an ironic flourish.

‘That would be the Second Trial?’ Caius considered. ‘I thought Nibani Maesa had explained the Trials to you? – The prophecies are surprisingly vague, for all their specificity. Perhaps it means that the Nerevarine is immune to corprus, and other diseases; perhaps it means that the Nerevarine can cure such diseases; perhaps it means they can _overcome_ them. And that last hypothesis, I think, is what we are hinging on here.’

‘You seem very desperate for me to be the Nerevarine.’

‘And you seem very desperate not to be.’

‘I do not think that _I_ am the one who would reap the fortune from such a position.’

‘Must I remind you that, were it not for this matter, you would have been –’

‘– executed a year and a half ago, yes, I am aware.’

It was all we could do not to circle each other, as if before a duel. Caius glanced at me, then at his near-empty glass, which after a moment he refilled.

‘I think we should take this as it comes. If I have anything to do with it, you are _not_ going to die from corprus disease. If Divayth Fyr should turn out to have the cure, then that will have wider importance than what we have discussed: consider your duty to be finding _that_ out, if you like. – But we shall work this out. You have already survived a good deal, whether that be by skill or luck. If nothing else, if the Sixth House had intended for you to die, they would have killed you at Ilunibi.’

‘They certainly tried their utmost.’

‘Whether or not it is fortunate that you are alive, or if there is some nefarious purpose in it, I do not know. But we can try our utmost to ensure that it becomes the former. What say you?’

I did not quite know how he expected me to put my thoughts in order after a glass of sujamma, but I attempted it, weighed my options. Certainly I didn’t want to experience the progression of corprus. If I should die, then let it be by a different means. – Did I want to die? did I consider my continued survival to be fortunate? – I did not really know...

‘Very well,’ said I at last, and poured myself another glass.


	3. Lucky to Be Alive

I had often been told that I was lucky to be alive; I had never been quite certain of that fact myself. Certainly I did not want to die, and such a sentiment grew with every passing day – every day when I realised more and more my own sense of identity and my place in the world. I did not want to die; but despite this, there were some days when the burden of responsibility was heavy upon me, the responsibility of being _alive_.

It diminished, eventually, this burden; but it did not quite go, not for a while. I did not consider myself unlucky to be alive: I was not quite persuaded the other way. Why should I be, with all the hardships that I faced, with the challenges that were cast at me?

I was so used to hanging in the balance, that I did not notice immediately, when this burden was lifted from my shoulders...

It was not permanent, it was not even for long, but it was recurring, and increasingly frequent. I noticed it, not the first time it was gone, but a short while later; I was merely sitting, and thinking, and my mind was light.

My mind was light, and did not dwell on the challenges of the past, nor the uncertainties of the outside world, but upon my own present and future. Here I saw not dark paths and storms to weather – as I had, what felt like so long ago – but certain and lasting happiness. Settled! I felt _settled_ , and that was the most curious thing, I had never been settled in my life, nor remotely satisfied –

Such thoughts overwhelmed me a little, and I started; and across from me, perceiving movement, Ilmeni looked up from her book.

‘Ilmeni,’ said I, almost without meaning to.

‘Lunette?’

How charming she was!...

That little smile, still half in reverie – I would have given anything, to know her thoughts –; the way she looked at me, as innocently and as sweetly as our first meeting, despite that she now knew me; that she knew me, and still remained in my company, and still held me in esteem –

I knew what it was, and I knew not how to express it.

Oh! the people I had before seduced, the people who had fallen to my charm, and under my thumb, and I had made scarcely an effort! and I had felt little, I had charmed them, simply because I was not in my turn charmed; how easy it is, with a collected mind! and how difficult, when one –

I had stood, and not noticed my own movement; I could not help myself, I moved closer to her, sat beside her, on the bed.

She set down her book and turned to me: and her eyes were bright, I saw in her the same flame that burned within me, I hoped I was not imagining it –

‘Do you –?’

Her voice was tentative, excited.

‘Do I –’

‘Do you feel it, too?’

And she was closer to me, I did not perceive her movement, only her closeness, the delicate scent of stoneflower.

‘I’ve never felt like this before,’ she said, almost in wonderment: ‘Lunette, I – I –’

I mirrored her, came closer, and in one bold gesture took her hand. Her fingers trembled at the touch, curled into mine. I could not help but clutch her, gently, but firmly, gods, I wanted her –

I wanted her beside me, leaning into me, I wanted her _there_.

I did not have to invite her closer. Her shoulder brushed mine, delicately, as if by mistake; she didn’t retreat; and though she was blushing now, she smiled, and took my other hand.

‘Ilmeni, I – I have never felt like this, either.’

I feared she would not believe me – feared she knew about all of my encounters, about all those I had seduced, and then abandoned; about all those I had seduced, because I could, because it gave me power over them. I had felt scarcely anything for them, had gone in quickly and just as quickly cast them aside. Now I was the one bewildered, falling quickly, but acting slowly – I must be gentle, could not, would not harm her, would never abandon her –

My heart was pounding, fluttering almost. I had not realised that the books were true, that one could feel like this, that this was what it felt like...

‘Lunette, I shall sound like a schoolgirl, if I say it; I shall sound naïve; but I – I really, truly think – that I love you.’

I had always been so eloquent, and yet I fell before a simple confession, and could not speak. My only response was that to which my heart led me, my hand guided to her cheek, and my lips to hers.

 _Oh_!

That, then, was the cumulation and dissipation of my tumult. I had spent an age and a day, before, considering the worth of my life, and what enjoyment I might glean from it; calculated, coldly; I had wavered between the brief excitements of my life, and those dark paths, with storms trembling upon the horizon. Now, suddenly, the burden was gone – had always been gone, with Ilmeni – I was absolutely at comfort, I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! Oh! if I had only known what it felt like, if I had known that this was what I should live for!

I _was_ lucky to be alive...

I was lucky, because I had her: and that was all I needed, all I had ever needed. I had survived this far for her; and now I need not fear the future –


End file.
